1.5 – Pilot

Just a reminder to all the parents out there: let’s talk about safety when taking your children out to play in the scrub lands and the sand wastes. You need to give them plenty of water. Make sure there’s a shade tree in the area.

And keep an eye on the helicopter colors. Are the unmarked helicopters circling the area black? Probably world government. Not a good area for play that day. Are they blue? That’s the Sheriff’s Secret Police. They’ll keep a good eye on your kids and hardly ever take one.

Are they painted with complex murals depicting birds of prey diving? No one knows what those helicopters are, or what they want. Do not play in the area. Return to your home and lock the doors until a Sheriff’s Secret Policeman leaves a carnation on your porch to indicate the danger has passed. Cover your ears to blot out the screams.

Also, remember, Gatorade is basically soda. So give your kids plain old water, and maybe some orange slices, when they play.

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1.17 – Pilot

And now for a brief public service announcement.

Alligators. Can they kill your children?

Yes.

Along those lines, to get personal for a moment, I think the best way to die would be swallowed by a giant snake. Going feet first and whole into a slimy maw would give your life perfect symmetry.

9.8 – “PYRAMID”

And now, a public service announcement from the Night Vale medical community.

Being in the desert, we get a lot of sun, and doctors are encouraging Night Vale citizens to do regular skin checks. You may think that freckle or mole is harmless, but you never know when it will grow into something much worse.

Surgeons at Night Vale General Hospital are noting an uptick in dermatological growths related to sun exposure. Doctors describe these growths as “fifteen-inch spiraled horns.” The horns mostly protrude from the lower back or knees. Unchecked, these horns can develop a glistening shine, small leather saddles, and bright red lips on the very tip. So check your skin at least once a week in the mirror.

Dermatologists recommend a three-step process. One: search meticulously for fifteen-inch horns protruding from your body. Don’t overlook anything. Two: if you find any suspicious growths, mark them with a chalk pentagon. Three: gently remove the affected skin area with a sterilized razor blade, or similarly clean crafting blade. If you are not one of the 53% of our community that was born without pain-sensing nerves, you should first consult your primary care electrolysist for tips on how to numb yourself to the nigh-unbearable pain of existence.

11.9 – Wheat & Wheat By-Products

A reminder to all Night Vale citizens that the annual Sorrow Songs Sing-a-long is this Thursday. There will be a potluck lunch and the softball team will be selling refreshments to fund things that each of them individually want to buy for themselves.

Anyone who has their own sorrow song they’d like to add to our communal vocal malaise should submit it to City Hall by Tuesday at the latest. Remember that low moans and minor-key chants do not count.

The composer of the best Sorrow Song, as indicated by our audience participatory Weep-O-Meter, will be ritualistically drowned in a pool of our own townspeople’s tears. Good luck!

12.9 – The Candidate

The following is a test of the Emergency Dream Broadcast System.

[Creepy music plays. Cecil speaks in a low voice.]

In the event of an actual emergency, you would just now be experiencing a dream in which you were in the neighborhood where you grew up, only all the houses are now black, featureless cylinders.  Just row after row of these blank dark cylinders, stretching out around you.  You are home, but you are also somewhere from whence you will never find home again. There is someone waiting for you at the end of the longest street.  You know that, although you do not know who.   You try to run down the street and it grows longer and longer.  You pass by one cylinder in particular and know that it’s your house.  You stop running.  You approach the blank face of the cylinder, its surface seeming to devour light and sound.  You reach out and you are inches from touching it.  Just then you hear a ding. You look up to see words in the sky.  “POSSIBLE FLASH FLOODS” they say.  “ALERT VALID UNTIL 3 PM.”

[Cecil speaks in a cheerful voice.]

Once again, this has been a test of the Emergency Dream Broadcast System.

15.2 – Street Cleaning Day

Ladies… gentlemen… you. Today is Street Cleaning Day. Please, remain calm. Street cleaners will be upon us quite soon. We have little time to prepare. Please, remain calm.

The City Council has issued a statement in twenty-point all caps type saying “RUN. RUN. FORGET YOUR CHILDREN AND LEAVE BEHIND THE WEAK. RUN.” We have contacted those experts who have not already gone underground or changed their identity, and have been told that street cleaners focus on heat and movement, and so the best strategy is to be dead already. Then, the experts all swallowed pills and fell, mouths frothing, at my feet. If you have doors, lock them. If you have windows, board them up. If you still have ears, cover them, and crouch wherever you are. It is Street Cleaning Day. Please, remain calm.